


Imposter Syndrome

by beckdarkthrone



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alcoholism, All round sad Spencer, Angst, BDSM, Bullying, Comfort, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Eating Disorder, I love the idea that they find out Spencer isnt all he seems to be, It might get better I havent decided, It will get better than worse, NSFW, Self Harm, Sex, Suicide mention, Toxic love, Whump, coming up, eventually, tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28405320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckdarkthrone/pseuds/beckdarkthrone
Summary: Spencer falls off the wagon after a traumatic trip to see his Mother... And he falls HARD.
Comments: 35
Kudos: 64





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> TW. Sad Spencer all around. Tbh I just like to entertain the ideas of Spencer suffering. Love the man, love watching him suffer. I haven’t written about Spence before because I am not sure how to write his personality, so this is just MY take on it. I HATE THAT THE WRITERS NEVER ADDRESSED HIS DRUG ISSUES. This is set after a time Spencer went to visit his mother in Vegas, and she really isn’t doing well.

Sitting on the plane on the way back to Virginia has been the hardest part so far. Spencer bounces his leg up and down, up and down, twitching his fingers. His skin is itching. His brain is loud. Th two books for the flight have been abandoned, and there is only so high he can turn the volume on his iPod. 

_I need to shoot up, but I can’t on the plane, that’s just unsanitary… Ironic_ , he thinks.

Pulling out his phone to check the time once again, he catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection. The dark eye bags permanently etched under his eyes are even darker – if that were possible. In the 2 weeks he had been gone, he had lost 8 pounds, making his skinny fingers look longer.

_How did I get to this…._ Spencer contemplates, looking outside the plane window to see the airport coming into view.

_Lucky, I didn’t tell the team I was coming home, long enough to get to my apartment, change, shoot up, see what alcohol I have stored there, and then chase up my contacts for a re-up._

By the time the cab drops Spencer at his door, his hands are trembling, and his core temperature has dropped.

“Fucking withdrawals…” He mutters to himself as he climbs the stairs… _When did I start swearing?_ A voice in the back of his head says quietly as he unlocks his door and tosses his messenger bag down on the couch.

Stripping out of his suit jacket and shirt, his slacks and his dress shoes, Spencer searches through his bag, pulling out a full kit. 2 clean reusable needles, one spoon, 2 vials of Dilaudid and 1 of Morphine. He also takes out a bottle of tequila and a bottle of red wine.

“Picked up this habit quickly again didn’t we Spencie” Spencer chuckles and he takes his loot to the bathroom. He doesn’t know why he uses the name only Cat calls him. After his interactions with her after prison, she seemed to have unlocked something deep inside him… Or maybe prison unlocked it, and she allowed it to stay. But since then, he hasn’t slept all night in months, he has constant flashbacks, severe bouts of rage and guilt, and episodes of pure numbness and apathy. After trying to talk to his mother every day for 2 weeks, and her not recognising him at all, it all became too much. Finding a dealer in Vegas is too damn easy, especially if you know where to look. 30 minutes later, Spencer had 5 vials of what he was looking for, and way out of his monotony.

Sitting on the bathroom floor, Spencer takes a tie he left on the tub and ties it tight around his bicep before organising and preparing a syringe of Dilaudid. Before placing the needle to his already bruised forearms, he stares at the patchwork that is his forearms. Between the injuries from work, the previous track marks, his old scars from when he self-harmed as a teenager, and his newer scars from a previous suicide attempt 4 years ago, he is a mess. He wonders why the team have never really questioned why he wears shirts and sweaters no matter the weather… These thoughts slip away quietly he when he gently injects the clear liquid into his veins. The warmth is followed by numbness, followed by and airy feeling. Perfect. No thoughts, no worries, no nothing.

A slight smile spreads across Spencer’s face as he slides down onto the floor and places his head on his soft bathmat. _Welcome home Spencie._


	2. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Cat Adams...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one will be short, but I am writing a new chapter as I type this!

“Are you sure you’re ready for this Spence?” JJ asks, concern bleeding through her calm façade. Spencer nods, his face cold. Deep down, he is excited to see Cat Adams again, not that he would ever admit that to the team. She saw something in him no one else did – or wanted to. She matched him intellectually, which even at the BAU, was hard to find. She was fun, crazy, hot, and scary, which sent a thrill through Spencer whenever he thought about her.

JJ opens the door to the interview room for him and whispers “we are all listening, just say if it becomes too much” before closing the door behind him. Spencer ensures his sleeves are down before sitting in front of Cat – she notices everything.

“Spencie” Cat sings with love, her eyes lighting up. Spencers face doesn’t change, he just stares at her.

“How did you manage to run a squad of all female hit women in prison Cat?” Spencer asks matter-of-factly, painfully aware his whole team is behind the glass listening.

Cat laughs “Spencie, you know it doesn’t work like this, time to play another game” she giggles, leaning forward on the table. Spencer takes a second to observe her, her hair is longer again from the last time he saw her, and her eye bags are permanently bruising her face. But there is a spark of life in her eyes, like the possibility of seeing him has kept her going for months.

Spencer sits back and crosses his arms “fine, what do you want?” he concedes, knowing at this point it is easier than fighting.

Cat claps her hands “great ok, so, we haven’t seen each other in years Spencie! Let’s catch up, you tell me about what you’ve been doing, ill tell you about what IVE been doing” she says happily, pleased that Spencer will play.

Spencer freezes momentarily, thinking about what he has been doing recently. Drugs, sex, violence, depression, rage, nightmares… Oh god, she knows somehow.

Cat notices the change in demeanour and smirks – knowing she has hit a nerve.

“Come on Spencie, you know how to play” Cat flirts, putting her hand out to take Spencers watch. Off his wrist. Which currently has a large bandage on the lower half, and track marks below the elbow. Spencer puts his arm under the table to take off his watch, a gesture which doesn’t go unnoticed by Cat, and the team. But no one comments. Yet.

Cat wraps the watch around her skinny wrist and waits for the start of a new minute before smiling violently.

“Ok Spencie, 20 minutes. Let’s chat” She announces, sitting back on her chair, letting her long hair flow around her.

Spencer takes a deep breath in, knowing this will be a roller-coaster, it always is with Cat.


	3. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat is much more intuitive that anyone at the BAU could imagine... Including Spencer

“You have limited communication with the outside world, all of your visits and interactions with guards are monitored, you have no friends, no colleges and no cell mate. How did you communicate with woman on the outside?” Spencer asks plainly, hoping to give nothing about himself away during this conversation.

Cat simply laughs, like he is missing something obvious. He is sure they are, there doesn’t seem to be any way that she can be organising anything, yet here the BAU are, entertaining Cat again.

“That’s a boring question…” She sulks, playing with Spencer’s watch “have you ever thought that I have nothing to do with it?” She toys, watching Spencer’s face closely.

Spencer lets that tick in his mind… Surely she does, they kill men exactly how she did, same MO, same victim typology. It’s all too similar to NOT involve Cat. Yet there really seems to be no way she is talking to anyone else.

Cat sits forward in her chair and smiles “Ok now my turn to ask a question.”

Spencer nods “fine”.

She observes him, looking at how thin he has become, how curly his long hair is, how he is wearing a black sweater and slacks rather than his usual suit and tie ensemble. Is he hiding something from the team? Something he hasn’t told anyone? But what? He is sitting different, powerful but reserved. Like he could do whatever he needs to survive, but he doesn’t want to survive. It is a new look on Spencer.

Cat decides to go with her gut. She pulls the watch off her wrist and gives it back to Spencer.

“Silver isn’t my colour anyway, you can wear it – for now” she laughs, watching him closely. Spencer looks at her confused before putting his arm under the table to put his watch back on.

“Naha. Nope Specie, put it on where I can see”.

Spencer freezes. _No. That’s the opposite of what I want to do. But, if I decline, that will cause more questions._

Spencer slowly brings his arms up and leans his left arm on the table, lifting his sweater sleeve SLIGHTLY, in the hopes that Cat will get what she wants while he slides on his watch. It’s not enough. Cat slides her hand into his, and the other grabs his skinny wrist. Spencer freezes – from pleasant surprise, and pure terror. With a sweet smile, she slides his sleeve up, his indiscretions on full display. Not just to Cat, but to the whole team. She hears JJ and Garcia gasp in the earpiece hidden under his hair. _Fuck._

Cat smirks wildly, looking at the damage Spencer has done with awe. He has a small section of his forearm covered in a clean whit bandage, both above and below are scars and cuts, in various stages of healing. In the crook of his elbow are fresh track marks and remnants of his previous Dilaudid addiction. His upper arm are covered in bruises from the last fight he got into in an alley way 2 days ago, someone followed him into the dark when he went to shoot up. Peaking from under all of that, he scars from his suicide attempt that noone but Morgan knows about.

Cat tsks with a smile on her face and a wild spark in her eyes “Spencie, you really have been busy”

As she said that, JJ cried “Spencer…”

He ignored JJ and focuses on Cat, hoping to continue and end this conversation.

“I am not here to talk about this Cat, how are you doing it?” He says coldly ripping his arm from her grasp and pulling his sleeve to his fingertips.

Cat sits back and contemplates for a quick second “I had this organised before I went to jail, I’ve had back up plans, trainees, teachers, young girls who were abused and left and had been grooming them for years before you got me, they just finally got the confidence to go through with what I taught them all those years ago… But I don’t want to talk about that any more Spencie, that’s not fun. You are” She spills, taking in Spencer with newly informed eyes.

Spencer couldn’t believe it, I thought it would take hours and days to discover her plans, how she was encouraging these crimes to be committed, but one little discovery changed her mind… There must be a clause.

“What’s the catch?” Spencer asks, ignoring the chatter in his earpiece, JJ is telling Garcia to let the rest of the crew know what has been going on.

Cat gives Spencer an angelic smile “Nothing gets past you Spencie… YOU tell me about your scars and newest habits, and for each piece of information I find interesting, I give you one name of the girls working for me” Cat bargains, sitting up on her knees, looking like a giddy schoolgirl. It is like the air around her suddenly has life again, like this conversation is enough to redeem her soul and her will to survive.

Spencer hears JJ mumble angrily in his ear, Hotch say a quiet “no…” and Morgan swear vehemently. 

Spencer scratches his arm absently while he quickly weighs the pro’s and con’s. His whole team is listening, he will have to divulge how low he has really sunk. But these women are killing men daily and they have no way to narrow down who is committing the crimes and who is next…

Spencer nods coldly, “Ok Miss Adams, you have a deal”

Cat smiles like a child on Christmas morning “So Spencie…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this took so long, I am writing the next chapter right now, so you wont have to wait long!! I am going to have fun playing with this story.


	4. Are we having fun yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evidence the BAU missed...

NIGHTS BEFORE

Garcia suggested going to a bar after a late night working on this case, there are already 14 men dead with no discernible connection or reason; different states, ages, races, jobs and lives. It was driving everyone insane.

Everyone agreed while Spencer stayed silent in the corner of the room he took over – there were at least 45 books all in various stages of reading as well as all of the case files, and many empty cups of coffee.

“Spence?” JJ asks with a smile on her face “want to come too?”

They knew Spencer - normally - didn’t drink, he tried to avoid it in order to be clear headed at all times, so they were happily surprised when he agreed, with a quick nod, to come out drinking with them.

It was a Wednesday night, so it wasn’t busy, only a few people scattered throughout the bar, as Garcia offered to buy the first round, Spencer went up to order with her.

As Garcia rattled off everyone’s orders, including Spencer’s, Spencer quietly grabbed the attention of another bar tender.

“Whiskey, neat, double” he muttered quickly, tapping his card to pay.

The bar tender expertly pours the drink without paying attention and hands it to Spencer before Garcia has even finished her orders. Spencer downs both shots and puts the glass back on the bar.

“Another” he mumbles, and the bar tender obliges.

He puts the glass down and joins Garcia just in time for her to turn around and smile at him.

“I got you a cider because I know you aren’t that fond of drinking, wonder boy” she says happily, Spencer smiles back, not sure if it reaches his eyes. Getting absolutely plastered is honestly all he wants right now but he guesses it can wait until he is home.

Brushing his long locks out of his eyes, Spencer grabs a few drinks and helps bring them back to the table. He observes his team, just to make sure they didn’t see him down 4 standards in 1 minute. They didn’t, they’re preoccupied with Hotch and JJ trading photos of Henry and Jack.

Everyone starts chatting and sharing drinks while Spencer sits on his chair, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down awkwardly. Trading his suit and tie for hoodie and slacks was a more comfortable choice – and luckily his team don’t really care at the moment how anyone looks, this case is more important – but he could also hide his weight-loss much easier. His usual outfits don’t fit him anymore and he is having to improvise.

Spencer sat for over 30 minutes just listening to his team talking and laughing, enjoying the blurriness of the alcohol in his system, until he could feel it wearing off. Without warning, he stood up and mumbled ‘bathroom’, striding straight to the men’s room in the corner of the bar, not waiting for anyone to respond. Staring at himself in the mirror, Spencer breathes in deeply. _Drinks? Or shoot up? I have some heroin in my bag ready to go… But I also have a few Xanax bricks… or two Adderall pills… Jesus how did I end up with all of this stuff, I have more in my bag than most drug dealers…_

Taking another deep breath, Spencer runs his hands under some cold water and pulls his fingers through his hair. _No, I can wait until I am home, a few more drinks to calm my nerves._

Quietly sneaking out of the bathroom, Spencer’s eyes gloss over the table to make sure no one is watching him. He slides to the bar and asks the same bartender for the same order. This time she eyes him up and down quickly but makes him a drink, which he again throws down in record pace. _Why is everyone so loud, so overwhelming, when did I become so sensitive to this, so sensitive to life…_

As Spencer orders one more drink he feels someone stand next to him. Not paying any attention to them, Spencer finishes his new drink before looking at who it was. Morgan. Fuck.

“Pretty boy, when did you start drinking?” Morgan asks with a smile, but concern in his eyes.

Spencer panics. Everyone knows the real reason he doesn’t drink is because alcohol is a gateway to drug use in addicts, it is better to avoid all temptation than play with fate. But since his drug use has never been directly discussed, his real reasons for avoiding alcohol never have been too. And Morgan knows this.

“Uh… Just recently” he says, hoping that sort of telling the truth will be better than trying to come up with a valid sounding lie.

Spencer looks into Morgan’s eyes and smiles, hoping that was enough to end this conversation, “let’s go back” he says, leaving Morgan at the bar and joining the group again, chugging the rest of his cider as soon as he sits down, and tucking his hands between his knees to hide his tremors.

Morgan watches Spencer leaves, observing the changes in him which are more and more obvious every day. _He is quiet, reserved, not offering any more facts or mini lectures on subjects that interest him. He never eats and drinks his weight in coffee. The last time he was like this was after he was abducted by Hankel…_ The implications of this train of thought leaves Morgan’s stomach feeling cold.

Hotch orders the team one more round before they call it a night, ordering everyone tequila shots. _Finally, something worth drinking,_ a dark voice says in the back of Spencer’s head.

He ignores it and pretends to eye the shot with trepidation, like he isn’t excited to add it to the cocktail of liquor flowing through him. Everyone laughs and coughs when they drink theirs, but Spencer doesn’t both hiding his practice, drinking it like water. The team notice but don’t say anything.

After bidding the team good-bye, Spencer takes a cab home, and doesn’t realise how drunk he really is until he tries to climb the stairs in his building, having to stop more than once. Spencer slides down the wall and sits on a step, smirking to himself, not out of happiness, but desperation. _This is what I have become, an IQ of 187 and I cannot climb stairs because I drank too much in order to drown depression and heroin withdrawal… Five words in his head scream "Are we having fun yet?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really just wrote this for me, it doesnt further the story in any way. I adore the lyrics to Nickelback How You Remind Me, it makes me think of Spencer sometimes, hence this chapter. The next chapter will be FULL OF PLOT so dont you worry.


	5. Cold as Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All is revealed... Too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW TW TW TW

Spencer shifts uncomfortably in his seat, painfully aware of the team and Cat eyeing him “ok, let’s get it over with” he spits, hoping to tear down Cat’s excited mood.

Cat smiles “I see that rage from prison hasn’t dispelled like you thought it would Spencie… Hmm… My first question… New track marks hmm? On top of old ones?” She comments, waving her arms over her forearms to indicate.

“No… Spencer…” JJ mutters in his ear piece – he had mentioned to her on many occasions he had considered taking up his Dilaudid habit again, but stopped talking about it when he actually did.

Spencer wants to shut his mouth. Not say anything more, to put on a false front of calm and power, and to walk out of here and hide himself from the world, but then he thinks about all the men who have died, and will die, if he doesn’t succumb to Cat’s game… _Why does she always have such power over me…_

“Yes, track marks” Spencer responds, not wanting to divulge any more information than she asks for. He confirmed their presence, but that was not enough for Cat.

“Oh babe, you have to give me more than that. There are new ones on old ones, so, drug use isn’t new to you? I never picked you for an addict yet here we are? What are you taking? Now and then? You answer to my satisfaction, I give you a name” she smiles.

Spencer takes a deep breath, knowing full well admitting his drug problems with cause disorder within his job.

“Dilaudid” He says, hoping it is enough, but Cat raises and eyebrow questioningly.

He sighs “Dilaudid, Heroin, Fentanyl - ” He hears Garcia sob and Hotch gasp when he continues to list “ - also been snorting Cocaine, Adderall, Xanax, I’ve been experimenting with Speedballs… and Morphine” Spencer finishes his list, surprising himself with the number of drugs he has tried in the last few weeks, saying it out loud is much different to experimenting with it in his apartment.

Cat laughs, pleasure radiating off her, “Spencie!! What a busy boy you have been, my gosh, that certainly earns a name. Her name is Susan Bellrush”

Spencer can hear Garcia typing furiously before a quiet “she’s telling the truth”.

  
Spencer nods, accepting the answer. Now that he knows he has nothing to hide, he feels manic, and over stimulated. Like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders… Or maybe it’s the line of Cocaine he did before entering the interrogation room. Either way, he decides to play along with Cat’s game, with vigour.

He smirks, knowing it doesn’t reach his eyes and pushes the sleeves up on his sweater, exposing his arms for all to see.

“Fine, Cat, keep it up” He whispers, wanting to get this over with.

Cat is essentially vibrating with excitement; this side of Spencer is something she wanted to see since she met him all those years ago. Unhinged, out of control, manic and chaotic. It is exciting. Cat’s eyes roam Spencer while she tries to think of a new question, knowing full well the full BAU team are on the other side of the glass, learning all this information about their beloved genius in real time too. It’s a thrill to be tearing apart a team from the inside.

Cat’s eyes land on his self-inflicted scars “they’re new to a point, but I also see two scars vertically?” she asks, eyeing the glass behind him in the hopes of catching any movement.

Spencer’s heartbeat picks up slightly, he has NEVER spoken about his self-harm or suicide attempt, not to anyone. No-one on the team knows, not even Gideon knew.

But Spencer doesn’t let that show, he doesn’t want her to feel in control of the situation “I’ve been cutting since I was 8, and I tried to kill myself when I was 17” he says coldly, not letting his anxiety seep through his voice.

“Did you know…” Emily asks in his earpiece, presumably to Hotch or JJ.

“What do you use?” Cat asks straight up, before Spencer can hear his team’s discussions.

“Razor blade and a pocket-knife, I tried to kill myself with a steak knife, but I passed out from blood loss before I could do sufficient damage” Spencer says, hoping to give just enough information for Cat to give up another name.

Cat smiles slightly and contemplates for a few minutes. Cat’s silence means Spencer can hear the chatter in his ear.

“… How did we not know?”

“Since when…”

“What can we do?”

“Stay calm until after th…”

Deciding it was enough information, Cat releases more names.

“Bethany Dox, Charlotte Ainsley, Kara Winkle, Dorothy Pence, Alexandra Carter, thought you deserved a few more for the emotional turmoil this is putting you through” she says with a smile.

After a moment of silence Spencer hears Garcia “it checks out wonder boy…” and then Hotch “come in here now”.

Spencer nods and stands up abruptly, pulling the sleeves down on his sweater before exiting the interrogation room and turning the corner into the observation room, where he is met with many different reactions. Morgan, confusion, JJ, tears, Garcia, shock, Emily, worry, Hotch, anger. Spencer stands there, determined to remain defiant.

“Do we need more names?” He asks, hoping in some way everything he divulged could be ignored.

The whole team just stare, not answering his question. _Fuck._

Hotch is the first one to break the silence, “yes, we do. Well done on getting her to talk, we need to know if there is a central organisation, so we can obtain a warrant, and if there is a ringleader, because if she doesn’t give enough names, we can make a deal with the ringleader” Hotch says with cold precision, stunning the team – it is clear they all have much more to say.

Spencer nods and turns on his heels quickly back into the interrogation room. With Cat, he doesn’t feel judged. He feels powerful, special, in control. With the team, he feels like a freak, a letdown, weak, and he knows which feeling he prefers.

Opening the door again Cat beams up at him with a smile of adoration and innocence, Spencer has to remind himself it’s a façade.

“What did boss man say to you?” Cat asks, playing with a strand of her hair.

Spencer sits down in front of her, placing his elbows on the cold metal table.

“Ringleader, we need a name” he says calmly “and a location” he adds.

Cat stops and thinks for a moment, weighing her options, before grinning.

“Ok, I’ll give you both if you answer a few more questions, then we are done for the day, ok Spencie?”

  
Spencer sighs, already regretting the amount of information he has given her, but with adrenaline and cocaine still flowing through his system, he realises he is up for anything if it means playing with Cat. He nods.

Cat’s eye once again roam Spencer, like she is wondering how far she can push this.

“Ok, I have a few more questions, seeing as if you answer them, I will give many pieces of information…” she warns “when and why did you start drugs again?” she asks.

Spencer feels a chill run through him, she is pushing every limit. He hadn’t planned on every mentioning his relapse to the team, he was hoping he would either sober up again and continue with his life, or it would kill him, and it didn’t matter in the end. She is breaking down all of his defences and spilling all of his secrets, for fun.

Deep down though, Spencer knows it’s thrilling to play this game, to show his team who he REALLY is, to show Cat what he is capable of, even if he is risking his job. He is too smart for the BAU to fire though, he is an asset. They’ll put him on leave until he is sober, or he will be part of a program while working and they’ll test him. But he can fake all those tests, besides, he created them all. Spencer is feeling more than he has in weeks.

“Um… I shot up again for the first time in ages about a month and a half ago, when I was in Vegas. A bad visit with my Mother and I decided I had had enough. It was easy to find a dealer, but they didn’t have Dilaudid, so I chose Heroin instead. Then after that it was free game, anything I could get my hands on, I took” Spencer said with a dark smirk, knowing the effect it had on Cat. He was thankful his back was facing the team, they wouldn’t like this side of Spencer, hearing it was one thing, but seeing his reaction was another. It wasn’t enough for Cat though, she just rose her eyebrows slightly, encouraging him to continue.

“I always something with me and I haven’t been sober in weeks. If I can’t shoot up or snort anything, I drink” Spencer hears Morgan say “I knew Pretty Boy didn’t drink…” quietly in his ear while he continues his confession "I am fucked up right now. I shot up in the bathroom this morning, and I've been snorting lines of Cocaine all day to keep the withdrawals at bay. I have to hit my dealer up tonight, but I am also in a really bad mood and every time I am high and in a bad mood I end up getting into fights with local junkies hence" Spencer gestures to the faint FAINT bruise on his jaw and bruises on his upper arms Cat saw earlier. Spencer then decides to go all out, he has nothing left to destroy. 

“So, I am an alcoholic, a drug addict, my therapist recently diagnosed me with Major Depressive Disorder, Anxiety, Autism, PTSD, Bipolar Disorder and an Eating Disorder. I’ve been having sex with anyone who stands still long enough, I have anger management issues and night terrors, and I’ve been fighting anyone that looks at me the wrong way” Spencer summarises, hoping it is enough. Cat nods, he can tell, she is satisfied with his answers.

“Headquarters is across town; I’ll write down the address. Since I have been gone, the ringleader is now Carla Benton. Look her up, you’ll find enough.” Cat says, sitting back sadly in her chair, she knows the game is over.

Spencer stands up angrily, pushing the chair across the room until it clatters against the wall.

“Good-bye Cat” he says coldly, slamming the interrogation room door on the way out. He doesn’t turn the corner to join his team though, he stalks angrily down the hall, towards the exit of the building, ignoring the barrage of “Spencer”, “Reid”, “Spence” “Pretty Boy” behind him. He has to get out of here. He needs to disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou for reading!! Not sure where I will go with this from now on, but I am sure having fun writing. Comment any suggestions or ideas if you want something <3


	6. Fight for love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer hits a wall and knows he cant continue like this any further... Comfort and love ensues. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was suggested perhaps this lil story needed some love and comfort, and here we go!! the start of something sweet, there will always be angst though, so dont get too comfortable! suggestions and comments are always appreciated <3

JJ sits on the couch with Will, watching some silly movie that doesn’t need much thought to understand. In the back of her mind, she is still worried about Spencer, but as Will has been reminding her – he is an adult, and can look after himself. Which is why she is so surprised to hear a soft knock at the door. Glancing at the clock while she throws off the blanket and moves to the door, she notes that it’s just after midnight on a Friday, who is here?

Opening the door, JJ cannot suppress a gasp at the sight of Spencer in front of her. He has only been gone 3 days, but apparently that was enough for even more self-destruction. He looks even thinner – if possible, and his eyes are dark and lifeless. Clad in black jeans and a black hoodie, he looks menacing, but his aura is defeated. Upon seeing JJ, Spencer’s face changes from a dark smirk – permanently plastered on his face as a defence mechanism lately – to pure pain, tears begin to fall quickly.

“JJ… Please help… I cannot do it anymore…” He sobs, hoping that he hasn’t damaged their relationship by going MIA. After a brief hesitation, JJ takes him into a tight hug, tears falling from her eyes too.

“Spencer… Always…” She mutters into his hair, taking his hand and leading him towards Will in the lounge room.

Aware of the situation, Will doesn’t question why JJ is leading a sobbing Spencer to the couch; he picks up the warm blanket she was snuggled under and places it over Spencer, tucking him in, like a concerned father.

JJ sits next to him.

“What do you need me to do Spencer?” She asks, lightly brushing her fingers through his curly hair.

Spencer sobs as a response, rubbing the sleeve of his hoodie over his tired eyes, it is clear he is not sober. JJ sighs, knowing there are going to be tough times ahead.

“Will, can you get some water, pain killers and a cup of tea?” JJ asks quietly. Will nods and heads to the kitchen, leaving JJ alone to ask some delicate questions.

“Spence… I need to know what you’re on, when you took it last, and if you have any injuries that need to be addressed”

Spencer looks at JJ with pleading eyes, but nods, knowing he has no choice. He decided to make his way here, he can’t be mad about them wanting to help him.

Clearing his throat, Spencer thinks about the last 24 hours “I uh… Did a speed ball… About… 6 hours ago… Snorted Cocaine about 5 hours ago… Shot up Morphine 3 hours ago… and I’ve been drinking for a few days…” Spencer lists, trying to be as accurate as possible.

Suppressing a gasp, JJ nods curtly, "and injuries?” Spencer knows full well she is asking if he has hurt himself on purpose. And he has. He pulls up his left sleeve to reveal a few cuts, deep, but clean. As he does that, Will walks in and notices them.

Putting down a pot of tea, and array of pain killers and a few bottles of water Will says quietly “I’ll get the first aid kit” before leaving without looking Spencer in the eye.

Spencer looks down, ashamed and angry. He is starting to feel the withdrawals kicking in and he is so tired.

JJ pours him a cup of tea, opens the water bottle and places two aspirin in his hand, take these, it won’t do much in the grand scheme of things but…” she finishes with a shrug.

Spencer complies before tucking himself up on the couch, cradling his mug of chamomile tea.

Will returns with the first aid kit, then leaves to check the boys. JJ gets the work quickly, wrapping his arm tight with antiseptic creams and bandages – ignoring any hisses or whimpers of pain from Spencer.

JJ then gets up, grabs a bucket and a small fan and places them on the coffee table, as well as a packet of crackers and another blanket.

“For nausea, chills, sweats, and when you’re hungry. I am going to sleep now, but I’ll be up in a few hours. Please Spencer, sleep” She pleads, before giving him a quick kiss on the forehead and heading upstairs to join Will.

Spencer strips off his hoodie and jeans, leaving him in a t-shirt and boxers, he takes out all the excess drugs he had stored in his pockets and stares at them. Deep down, he wants to hide them, to keep them to himself. He also knows how proud JJ will be if he gives them up… He decides on giving them up, worst case scenario he has a small drug store in his apartment… Placing the baggies of Cocaine, Xanax and Heroin on the coffee table, Spencer wraps the blanket tight around him and tries to fall asleep before any more withdrawal symptoms hit. He wants one more night before the hell that awaits him.

.................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Spencer wakes with a gasp when someone touches his forehead. It’s JJ. He sits up quickly, much more sober now, realising what he has done. _He has asked for help. Why did he ask for help? How fucked up was he when he decided this? He is ok? He was? What happened?_ Sensing Spencer’s confusion, JJ sits beside him and fills in some gaps.

“You’re ok Spencer… It is about 5:30am, Saturday. You came to our door around midnight asking for help… We are going to get you sober, we will.” JJ says with love. She notices the baggies on the coffee table and picks them up and pockets them before she thinks Spencer sees. Of course he does, but he doesn’t say anything.

Spencer nods quickly before a wave of stomach cramps rolls over him, causing him to flinch and curl in on himself.

“Withdrawals” JJ confirms.

“No fucking shit” Spencer snaps angrily, before instantly feeling terrible.

“I am sorry JJ, I am…” He apologises immediately, trying to uncurl on himself, but the pain is too much.

JJ simply nods, understanding “I get it Spencer… These next few days are going to be hard… What was it like when you last went through withdrawal?” She asks, taking a sip of her coffee Spencer didn’t even notice she was fiddling with.

Spencer weighs up whether to be honest or lie… At this point, he really sees no reason to lie though.

“Uh… The last time was about a year ago. I relapsed and started abusing Oxy… That was only a short relapse though, so it only took me a weekend to detox, I spent most of it in the bath because I was sweating so much… Before that was the Dilaudid and that was harder… Went to New Orleans to visit Ethan again and he helped me through it. But I have to warn you JJ this is much MUCH worse… I am so sorry for how I am going to be. It is not going to be pretty; I am going to be a monster…” Spencer warns, knowing how vicious and feral he can be when he isn’t feeling well. That coupled with his deteriorating mental health is going to be a horrid time for anyone who wants to be around him.

JJ nods, absorbing this information before making her decision. She cannot have Spencer staying here during this, between the children and Will, there is a little bit too much instability here and she can’t protect them from the events about to occur. 

“I’ll call the team, we will take you home, and we will take shifts looking out for you. We will get you through this ok?” JJ says, voice full of love and support. Spencer nods, knowing he has little choice.

Deep down there is a furious voice he can’t ignore. _Help? With what? You’re doing fucking fine, if you hadn’t have come here, we could have kept going. Wasn’t it fun finding new people to fuck in clubs? Shooting up whenever? Wherever? With whoever? You loved it, fighting, fucking, freedom. You’re about to give it up? For what? A team who didn’t even notice you were slipping?_

Spencer is pulled out of his spiral by JJ talking on the phone.

“Hotch, yeah, he is here. He was… I have some here… Yeah, I bandaged them… No, he hasn’t… Yeah… I’ll take him home then - … Exactly. Ok, see you soon” she hangs up, and Spencer looks at her expectantly.

“Apparently Hotch had the same idea and is already organising a roster of who will stay with you” JJ laughs, Spencer tries to smile but it slips off his face, leaving pain and frustration. It breaks JJ’s heart to see him so broken. His mental illness was never actively discussed throughout the team but everyone was aware there was some problems there, certainly OCD and PTSD, but it is safe to say everyone was just as surprised as her when he announced to Cat he has a personality disorder and eating disorder as well… She will need to address that, especially since she noticed Spencer didn’t touch the food she left for him and had only sipped the tea and water slightly.

Watching Spencer descend into himself, JJ decided it was time to get moving.

“Get up and have a shower, I’ll organise a few things for you and we will head to your place ok?” she says, trying to feign enthusiasm and calmness, which Spencer could obviously see right through – though he did appreciate the effort.

After some moaning and hissing in pain, Spencer makes his way to the bathroom and closes the door, sliding down onto the cold floor.

 _What the fuck are you going to do now?_ The voice in his head smirks angrily.


	7. Detox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer is forced to detox... He hopes it is worth this pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST  
> ANGST   
> ANGST  
> lots of angst in this chapter, however, the next will be SO DAMN LOVEY AND FLUFFY ITLL HURT  
> stay tuned for some love

Stomping through the door of his apartment, Spencer heads straight for his couch, curling up on it like a child, glaring at those around him. JJ drove him, Hotch and Morgan were already there waiting for them. His mood has dropped dramatically from the moment he woke up, with this being the first morning in weeks he hasn’t started with a hit of SOMETHING and withdrawals are beginning to take their toll. So far, only stomach cramps and mood changes, but everyone knows more is to come.

JJ sets down a bag of food, pain killers, and other withdrawal must-haves, while Hotch and Morgan start looking around Spencers apartment.

“What the fuck are you doing…” Spencer mumbles angrily, though deep down he knows the answer.

Morgan turns to face him “If you tell us where it all is, this will go a lot smoother kid” Morgan says with a frown, imploring Spencer with his eyes to comply.

Spencer grunts in response but sits up – with effort – and begins to search and collect vials, baggies and containers throughout his apartment. It takes approximately 20 minutes, and when he is done, he dumps it all on the coffee table for the whole team to see. There is a mixture of Dilaudid, Heroin, Fentanyl, Morphine, Cocaine, Xanax, Prozac, Adderall, MDMA, Methamphetamine, Weed, Whiskey, Tequila, Gin and Vodka.

JJ places her hand slowly to her mouth, unable to believe how quickly Spencer was able to obtain and ingest all these substances. Spencer eyes his loot with love and anger, unsure if he is able to give it all up.

Hotch nods, professional as always “you also need to get any tools you use to hurt yourself; this needs to be a safe space.”

This is too much for Spencer. He turns his head slowly to meet Hotch’s eyes, glaring like no one on the team has ever seen before. His recently dead eyes, dark and exhausted are alight, but with anger instead of life.

“No.” Spencer spits, standing taller to appear more threatening. Though he is infinitely taller than anyone in the room, he is so skinny it has no effect on Hotch.

Hotch doesn’t break however, he stands tall as well, gathering his dominant demeanour he has perfected at work.

“They’re. Mine.” Spencer whispers, practically vibrating with anger, his fists clenching tightly at his side. Sensing how dire this situation could become, Morgan steps in.

“Spencer, we cannot have you here if you do not give up everything. It is this, or a facility” Morgan says calmly, raising his hands in surrender.

The mention of a facility makes Spencer’s heart skip a beat and his stomach flip, making his already cramping stomach unbearable. Noticing he was going down, JJ takes Spencer’s arm and moves him to the couch, pulling off his hoodie – she could feel his fever radiating off him. Morgan, who hadn’t seen how skinny Spencer had become felt a bit ill as well, but held himself together. Pretty Boy needed him to be strong now.

Hotch concedes “ok… Take a nap Spencer, but afterwards, you will grab every item you have for self-injury” he says in his most authoritative tone.

Spencer, already beginning to doze off simply nods, before falling asleep immediately, leaving JJ, Morgan and Hotch to their own devices.

“He is so skinny…” Morgan mutters, eyeing Spencer, seeing his collar bones and chest plate through his thin shirt.

JJ nods, beginning to unpack some crackers and other dry food items out of her bag and opening Spencer’s pantry. Nothing. There was nothing in there. She opens his fridge and sees a bottle of water, more alcohol, and some soft drink. Diet Coke.

“I don’t think he has been eating for a long time” Hotch says, sitting on one of the couches facing Spencer. JJ finishes unloading her bags before glancing at Spencer one more time.

“I have to go for a little while, but I can be back in a few hours?” She offers, knowing she will be thinking about Spencer the whole time she isn’t in this apartment.

Morgan nods “maybe around 3pm?” He suggests, knowing that Spencer will most likely sleep for a few more hours, then starts the hard task of ridding his place of any prohibited items, something he doesn’t want JJ to see.

JJ nods sadly, before slipping out of the door quietly, leaving only the sound of Spencer’s laboured breathing.

Morgan eyes the pile of drugs and booze on the coffee table.

“I cannot believe it Hotch…” He whispers. Hotch doesn’t reply, he nods, unable to think of any response. He has witnessed many relapses, drug abusers, alcoholics and breakdowns in his time working for the FBI, but seeing it happening in front of you, with someone you know and love, is more painful than he thought possible.

Morgan settles down onto a chair at the dining table, watching over Spencer as he sleeps. They sit like that for hours, until nausea wakes Spencer up. He wakes up quickly and panics, running into the bathroom and slams the door. Locking it.

Hotch reacts quickly, trying to open the door “Spencer…” Spencer responds by violently being sick into the toilet, though he has nothing in his stomach except water and some tea.

“Fuck off…” He mutters between waves of nausea. Hotch simply knocks on the door again, indicating he will not go away until Spencer has unlocked the door. After a few more minutes, the door unlocks and Hotch opens it to find Spencer shirtless on the floor, sweating with tears pouring down his face.

“Fuck off…” Spencer tries again, but is too weak to put any effort in.

“Do you want to shower?” Hotch asks, ignoring the profanities.

Spencer nods weakly, pulling off his jeans – not caring about what Hotch sees anymore, this is literally his lowest moment, I cannot get any worse than this.

While Spencer wrangles off his socks, Hotch runs the shower, before helping him into it and sitting him on the bottom, handing him shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and some mouth wash.

“I will leave the door open and check on you soon, but stay in here for as long as you need” Hotch instructs, before leaving Spencer alone.

25 minutes later, Spencer emerges from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, smelling clean. Hotch holds his arm as he takes Spencer to his room and dresses him in a pair of black trackies and black long sleeve shirt, before sitting him on the bed and facing him.

“Where are the blades Spencer?” Hotch asks again, expecting an argument. He was right.

“I AM NOT GIVING THEM UP. Fuck you Hotch. Honestly.” Spencer yells, furious. Morgan enters the room as well, and decides to provide Spencer with an ultimatum. Pulling out his phone he stares him in the eye.

“Spencer, you tell us where they are now, or I will check you into the first drug rehab facility I find on google” Morgan says, though he isn’t sure if he is serious, Spencer believes him. He sits back on the bed cross legged, lost in thought.

_First your drugs, your booze, NOW your blades? When was the last time you had no blades in your house? You were a child. What will you do if you get angry? Sad? Lonely? Bored? Next thing you know, they’re going to make you start eating!_

“Spencer” Hotch pulls Spencer out of his minds turmoil and he nods, knowing that if things get really bad, he has kitchen knives, or he is an adult, he can easily buy more with no questions asked.

Spencer nods, getting up slowly before opening a drawer on the night stand. He pulls out 2 boxes, handing one to Morgan, and one to Hotch, pure hate in his eyes.

“Now you have them, now you fucking know me and what I am, can I sleep?” He hisses, rolling over on the bed, and burying his head in the pillow.

Hotch doesn’t respond, he just leaves the room, Morgan following closely behind. Placing both boxes on the table, they open them at the same time. 1 has 3 new packets of blades, and 2 loose blades, 1 utility knife, 4 broken sharpeners, and a lighter. The other has every first aid item you could ever need, including stitches and medical staples. It makes Hotch sick, how many times did Spencer need to sew or staple himself back up…

While Hotch stares at the boxes, Morgan begins to put all of the drugs, booze, blades, needles and lighters in a bag before tying it up.

“I’ll deal with this when JJ arrives” he says, Hotch agrees. This is going to be a hard few days.


	8. Growth and Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer is really really trying to be better...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is going to be so soft and lovey and sweet. Enjoy – if fluff is your thing. Am I just building this up to tear it all down again though? Might have to find out ;)

After the show of anger, the boys decide it is probably not the best for any of the girls to babysit Spencer… Not until the worst of the withdrawals is over. The last straw was when Garcia rang to see what pastries Spencer wanted to eat and he told her to ‘go fuck yourself, you lonely computer freak’ before storming into the bathroom to cry.

Hotch reassured Garcia it was not personal, and she understood but was happy to not come over and see Spencer this way.

After 4 days of swearing, crying, Spencer ripping open his cuts on his arms, blood, fist fights and dozens of showers, Spencer woke up on the 5th day not feeling like he wanted to climb onto the roof of his building and throw himself off it – no more than usual anyway.

Hauling himself out of bed, he wandered into his lounge room, rubbing his eyes and yawning before noticing Morgan and Hotch were in his kitchen still.

Smelling the coffee, Spencer smiled slightly “can I have coffee?” he asks quietly, wondering how mad at him they were. He could tell they were furious, but they poured him a cup and pointed him to sit on the couch. Spencer complied, sitting cross legged, huddled in on himself like a small child – this was the first time in weeks he was sober, and it hurt. His moods felt unstable, the feelings were painful, his arms hurt, his stomach was rumbling, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with any of it.

Hotch sits in front of Spencer, and Morgan stands next to both of them.

“Luckily, working for the FBI comes with many benefits…” Hotch starts, eyeing Spencer to gauge his mood.

“I made some calls over the last few days, and I was able to organise a psychiatrist, a nutritionist, a spot back in NA for you, and regular drug tests without you losing your job. You have to comply and attend every appointment, if you do, you can stay in the field. You slip up ONCE, it is desk duty until your psychiatrist sees you as fit to return to the field. Do you understand?” Hotch says, staring directly into Spencer’s tired eyes. Feeling intimidated, Spencer simply nods. He doesn’t want to do ANY of it, there is still the voice in his head telling him he still has the drug dealers’ numbers… He is paid well at the BAU so he can afford some more until pay day… But he also wants to give this a go… He cannot have his team – his family – disappointed in him like this again.

Morgan smiles “right, do you feel ok enough to head into the office and organise your appointments pretty boy?” Morgan asks. Spencer nods again, he doesn’t feel nauseous or shaky anymore, a few pain killers and his headache and the pain in his arm will disappear. Yeah, he has got this.

Monday: Psychiatrist

Tuesday: Nutritionist

Wednesday: NA

Thursday: Psychiatrist

Friday: NA

Saturday: Lunch at someone’s house

Sunday: Facetime someone for dinner

Spencer’s love for organisation and plans thrives in this routine. Because of this plan, he is forced to eat once a day – he cannot manage any more than that, and he hasn’t spoken to anyone other than professionals about his eating disorder, that will have to come with time. However, his multitude of mental illnesses despise the normality. _Go buy more blades. What about drugs… OD on your antidepressants. You could just leave your job and do whatever you want. They guy on the train looked at you… Fuck him. THAT guy looked at you funny, hit him. DO SOMETHING, ANYTHING._ On repeat, all day, every day. But remembering the faces of his family when they realised who had become was gave Spencer enough energy to fight it… For now, anyway.

Friday night, Spencer invited everyone to his flat after his NA meeting. He wasn’t used to having ANY company let alone his whole team over, but he figured, they knew literally everything about him, what harm could it do. Settling down on all surfaces – couch, chairs, floor, table – everyone was chatting and eating some Italian food Rossie bought over before Spencer cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of the room.

He wasn’t sleeping well, so his eyes were still dark, but they had a little bit more life than they did a fortnight ago, and though he was still skinny he didn’t look sick, or close to death, and instead of a painful smirk, smiles appeared on his face every once in a while.

“I want to thank-you all, for everything you have done for me –“ Spencer starts, smiling at his family. Hotch nods back, and Garcia squeaks with happiness “you have all saved me from… Well, myself. From my toughest time, from the worst of me… I understand that I was not open… I was not kind, I was not forthcoming or appreciative…” Spencer continues, thinking about the days after he returned back to work and was fighting off painful cravings, he was horrible to everyone. Snapping at JJ until she cried, ignoring Emily, calling Hotch horrible words, telling Morgan to fuck off, and the things he said to Garcia make him shudder to think about.

Spencer takes a deep breath and continues, shaking off a wave of depression and regret “I appreciate you all. More than you know” He finishes, with tears in his eyes, but a smile on his lips. Garcia wipes away her own tears and laughs.

Before everyone can start talking again, Spencer has one more thing to say “I know you have a LOT of questions… I want to answer them all”

Hotch clears his throat “are you sure Spencer?” He asks, looking at him intensely. Though his therapist can’t tell Hotch was is spoken about, she needs to give him updates on Spencer’s mental health, so he knows it is rocky, and Spencer has a lot of trauma he doesn’t ever talk about. Spencer nods, before he can change his mind though.

Everyone looks at each other, obviously brimming with unanswered questions and confusions before JJ starts.

“Uh… Spence… You mentioned to Cat… You have an eating disorder… uh…” JJ fades out, but gestures to the fact that everyone has food on their laps except Spencer, who is fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

Spencer takes a deep breath; he knew that would come up quickly…

He coughs quietly before answering “uh yeah… For the last few years now? It started when my depression got worse after Emily ‘died’…. I stopped eating because I didn’t have an appetite, but when Emily came back… I didn’t start to eat again, I loved how it felt… Everything felt lighter and easier. Less to worry about. Then I started losing weight and it became ANOTHER addiction, to see how far I could push it. That’s what ALL of this is, to get the voice in my head to shut up, to see how far I can push it” Spencer rambles, shrugging.

Morgan didn’t hesitate to ask the next question “voices in your head?” he says quickly, and Spencer realises what he let slip. He has spoken to his shrink about it, and it was quickly concluded it was not a symptom of oncoming Schizophrenia.

Spencer nods, “yeah, it isn’t what you think though, it’s a manifestation of my self-destructive urges I use to control my life when I feel out of control” he says from memory, quoting his shrink. Morgan nods, accepting Spencer’s honesty.

This time, it is Garcia with a question, still wiping tears from her eyes she asks “Wonder boy… Why do you feel the need to hurt yourself?” She asks, the love in her eyes blistering Spencer’s heart. He still doesn’t feel he deserves this kind of love, affection, loyalty. He doesn’t think he ever will. However, this question makes him laugh out loud, and this shocks the group.

“Sorry” Spencer says, stifling a giggle “it’s just that I have been asking myself that for decades now” he says, with a twisted smile. A smile that resembles the previous smile of pain, rather than happiness, but it fades quickly.

“I’ve been wondering that for years, and so far, all I can gather is that it is a control issue, a symptom of my numbness associated with depression, and response to intense feelings of anxiety, and a little bit to do with the fact I am a physical and emotional masochist” Spencer answers with complete honesty, maybe a BIT TOO much honesty. Though the team try to hide their surprise, Spencer can tell they’re starting to realise how deep Spencer’s issues go. For a while, they all go back to eating in silence, not an uncomfortable silence though, one of contemplation. It is Emily who breaks the silence.

“Are you going to be ok Spencer?” She asks, her words full of love and worry.

Spencer considers smiling and saying ‘yeah, I will be fine, it was a slip up, but I am ok now’, quelling their worries, but decides honesty is the only policy now.

He shrugs “I don’t know, I am trying… I really am” he says quietly, before picking up a fork and poking around at his garlic bread, trying to eat something today. The team watch, upset at how much pain one meal is causing him, but pleased, that he is trying one meal.

_Maybe this relapse could be the last?_ Hotch thinks, aware of his last one with pain killers. But observing Spencer with a profiler’s eye, he sees his tremors, his reserved smiles, his ever declining weight, and the way his eyes linger on everyone’s knives slightly, and realistically thinks it won’t be his last…


	9. Books and Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice night in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little tidbit is just for me really, it won’t progress the plot any further – so skip if you don’t want to read fluff and niceness. Just wanted a nice chapter before I inevitably destroy Spencer’s life again.

Closing the door behind Rossi, Spencer feels like he can finally breathe again. He loves that he didn’t destroy his relationship with his team and they still love him but having them ALL over at once really tested his social battery – or lack thereof. Everyone made sure to take their food rubbish and such home with them, so it left no food anxiety or mess for Spencer to clean up.

Heading to his bathroom, Spencer takes off his clothes and looks himself up and down in the mirror. He was finally allowed to take the bandages off his arms two days ago, he ended up needing stitches after he ripped his cuts open again and again during withdrawal tantrums, and under the bright light of the bathroom he can truly see the damage he did to himself in this last episode. A myriad of injection sites, mostly healed cuts aside from the last collection... All of his bruises have dissipated though.

Taking a deep breath, and dragging his eyes off his rib cage – which he doesn’t think is prominent enough anymore… Spencer gets into the shower and gives himself a proper pamper session. Washing his hair, shaving his face, using nice smelling soap that JJ gave him, the works.

Proceeding to get dressed in his comfiest PJ set, making himself a cup of green tea, and grabbing his 3 favourite books, Spencer settles down in his bed, taking a moment for himself. Being alone with his mind is something Spencer generally avoids at all cost, especially when sober. His psychiatrist – Evan – thinks that’s where Spencer’s proclivity for sex comes in. He is bi-sexual, and promiscuous, probably one of the only things his team doesn’t know about him now. He would rather spend the night with someone he met hours before, than be alone with his thoughts, but Spencer realises that this whole recovery thing probably means learning how to live with yourself…

_Live with yourself? You haven’t been able to live with yourself for decades… What makes you think you can start now hey? What a joke?_

Taking 3 deep breaths, Spencer pushes the voice away, opening his book and starting to read, Spencer smiles slightly. _Yeah... Maybe I really can do it this time._


	10. Feral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes normality is not enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I simply can’t write happiness too much; it isn’t in my nature!! So, perhaps we shall torture Spencer some more, this will be NSFW, read at your own risk.

7 weeks. 49 days. 1,176 hours. 70,560 minutes. That is how long Spencer was able to function without snapping. He went to work, travelled to NYC, Arkansas, Texas and Florida. Stopped a serial rapist, a cult of teenage Satanists, a sadist who preyed on woman who looked like his grandmother, and a woman who was convinced the FBI were out to steal her children. He ate once a day minimum, took his vitamins, drank his supplements, went to NA, started taking new antidepressants and mood stabilisers.

It was 9:30am, and the team had just flown in from another state across the country, finalising their case for the week. Collecting everything they all needed from the office, the group were discussing what they were going to do when they were home.

“I just can’t wait to see my boys” JJ says with all the love in the world, collecting her blazer and throwing it over her shoulder “what about you?” she asks Emily.

Emily just laughs, “I just want to sleep in my own bed, and have a hot bath”

“Agreed!” Garcia said, before turning to Spencer, who was slowly putting books and case files into his bag – reading through old cold cases has been all that was keeping Spencer sane the last fortnight, he needed to keep his mind busy.

“What about you wonder boy?” she asks, Spencer shrugged.

Spencer really wanted to say was ‘a full dose of Heroin, a hooker and some good music’, but he knows the team aren’t ready for any dark jokes like that yet.

Garcia looks worried for a second, but Morgan jumps in ‘probably reading and then bedtime yeah?” he jokes, but his eyes are more serious, like he is telling Reid that’s what he needs to do. Spencer nods and throws his bag over his shoulder, following the team to the elevator. What they don’t know is he is currently manic, manic as hell, his meds have been helping a bit but massive episodes like this can’t be helped. He hasn’t slept in 2 days and he is practically vibrating with manic energy, he can’t sleep.

Taking an Uber home because the idea of sitting on a train was too over whelming at the moment, Spencer was home – and alone – sooner than he was prepared for. Putting his bag, sweater and shoes on the floor, Spencer sat on his armchair, and waited. What for? He wasn’t sure. A new burst of motivation to do something, for sleep to finally take over, for a feeling he could recognise, for anything aside from useless pent-up steam and numbness. He waited. And waited and waited. Watching the clock and the hours fly by. 11am, 12, 1pm, 2… The only thing that had happened was Spencer becoming more and more agitated, more frustrated, and more angry. Now that he has no drugs, no liquor, no blades, nothing to destroy himself with, Spencer has found himself to be bored and angry more often, and not knowing how to deal with it. The ONLY thing he can think of to solve his boredom, is sex. Sex with anyone. Surely his team can’t take THAT away from him. He is an adult.

Who does he want to have sex with… As soon as his mind asked this question, the voice answered. _Cat._

“Fuck…” Spencer mutters, running his hands through his curly messy hair. She is IN his head. And the voice is right, he wants Cat. Before he can overthink it, impulsivity takes over and he goes to his bathroom to shower and clean himself up. To visit Cat. In prison. For sex. _Not a problem at all._

Standing at the locked door of the prison, Spencer waits for it to be unlocked by a guard. He is dressed head to toe in black, in his nicest suit, his hair wild and unruly, his eyes dark but his demeanour one of pure mania.

The locking sounds, the doors, the guards, the alarms, all bring panic to Spencer soul, but the thought of using Cat to take away all his boredom and frustration is far too powerful to ignore. Being an FBI agent, he was able to organise time with her, alone, in a locked room. Cat has no idea who is visiting and why, but he is sure she will be willing to oblige.

Walking through the many gates and locks, he finally steps through the door into the designated room for himself and Cat, where she is sitting, slumped on the metal chair – uncuffed – but looking bored and dejected. _Same babe_.

She immediately looks up at the sound of someone entering the room, and a look of frustration and madness is replaced with adoration and surprise.

As the guard locks the door behind Spencer, Cat smiles “Spencie! A surprise!”

Spencer doesn’t respond, he just sits in front of her and looks her up and down, already feeling his frustration subside, replaced with something else more feral.

“Spencie, why are you here?” she asks, noting the way his eyes seem to be undressing her. He looks healthier than when he saw him a few months ago, but something in his eyes seem a lot darker.

Spencer sighs, taking off his blazer and tie, placing them on the back of the chair he is sitting on. Cat watches his every move.

“Cat…” He starts, knowing the suspense is killing her.

“Cat… you wanted me to leave marks on you, didn’t you?” He asks, eyeing her neck, watching for her reactions – and they were exactly what he had hoped for – and increase in heart rate. Cat laughs.

“Yes, duh, but we concluded you weren’t ‘that kind of guy’” She responds, rolling her eyes.

Spencer sits back in his chair, feigning a casual demeanour “But Cat, what if I am that type of guy? I just didn’t want to JJ to know?” He asks her, placing his hands on the table. It was the truth, he didn’t want JJ to know what kind of person he really was, he was afraid of who he was after prison because it was so easy for him to act on impulses, he used to have to take drugs or psych himself up to do.

Cat looks at him, unsure “are you sure this isn’t a set up by you and your FBI buddies to get more info out of me? Is that why we are in the blocked off room? So we can’t be interrupted while you drill me for info?” She asks angrily, looking around the room, but the moment realisation dawns on her, Spencer smiles.

With the grin of a hungry kitten, she looks Spencer in the eye ‘oh Spencie you bad boy… Is that why I am here?” She giggles, leaning back in her chair, licking her lips.

Spencer leans over the table, closer to her and whispers “I need consent, ONCE, from you Cat… But I will warn… I am in a terrible mood, I am beyond manic, and I don’t know what I am going to do, you need to know what you’re consenting to” he informs her, a dark smirk appearing on his face.

Cat doesn’t hesitate, she nods quickly ‘come on bad boy, you don’t have the balls” she torments, smirking back at him.

Something snaps inside Spencer, an elastic band of control he has been pulling and holding onto so tightly since he got sober all those months ago. It snaps with force, as he throws he table out of the way, and grabs Cat by the neck, like he did years ago. This time, he pushes her to the wall, and kisses her, like he has never kissed anyone before. Moaning into her mouth, he grips her throat tighter and grids his hips into hers, his dick pulsing at the sound of her moan. Lifting her up slightly, he uses his other hand to grab under her ass, holding her up against his body.

“Oh Spencie…” Cat moans, an obvious power play to remind him who she thinks he still is.

Letting go of her neck, he wraps his hand in her hair and pulls her head back, so she is eye to eye with him.

“Don’t, fuck, with me” he growls, before kissing her neck fiercely.

This makes Cat laugh “or what genius? What will you do? Prove it” She taunts, knowing how angry it will make him.

Putting her down, he rips off his pants quickly, and before he has a chance to try take Cat’s off, she has already removed all of her clothes. This makes him moan, his eyes roaming her body hungrily.

Picking her up again, he places his throbbing dick at her entrance, the pause asking her once more for permission, or giving her time to back out. "Don't worry Spencie... Nothing has really uh... worked down there since my miscarriage so..." Cat responds, then lowers herself onto him, wet enough that there was no resistance. Spencer growls quietly while Cat pushes herself all the way down, crying out as she does so.

“You’re much bigger than I thought…” She mutters, wrapping her arms around Spencer’s shoulders. He glares at her.

“Shut the fuck up” He spits before starting a brutal pace of thrusting into her. Every frustration, manic moment, every thought about drugs, violence, liquor, blades and blood he has had over the last 7 weeks is fuelling him, taking it out on Cat and her body is all he can think of.

He pushes her hard up against the wall so he can wrap one hand throughout her hair, and the other holding tightly onto her thigh – leaving those fingerprint bruises she seems to want so badly.

“Yes… yes… yes, this is excellent…” Cat cries between every thrust, being forced to look up by how tight Spencer is holding onto her hair.

“I don’t care if you like it” Spencer grunts out before he thinks, hoping it wasn’t too much for her, but it seems to turn her on more as she starts moaning louder.

Even during sex, Spencer can’t turn his brain off. _Is this enough?_ The voice torments with a smile.

Without thinking, he picks Cat up and throws her to the table discarded against the wall. Cat looks up in surprise, but separates her legs for Spencer, nonetheless. He grips her shoulders and forces himself back inside of her again.

“What are you trying to forget Spencer?” She asks him, intrigued, but pleased.

Spencer glares at her, picking up his pace, the table knocking fiercely against the wall with every thrust.

Cat laughs at his response and spreads her legs further, leaning back on the table. Before he can stop himself, Spencer slaps Cat. His frustration in his life, with himself, and her taunting comments peaking into violence. He stops thrusting for a second to gauge her reaction, she places one hand lightly on her face before smiling at him again.

“Do it again.” She demands, and he complies, softer this time, however.

Cat responds to the violence by clenching tightly around Spencer, bringing him back to reality and what he is doing, he wraps one hand around Cat’s neck and the other around her waist before thrusting into her as hard as he can, cumming quietly while Cat cries out in pleasure.

Spencer quickly collects himself and begins to get dressed while Cat lies on the table laughing.

“Well, Spencie you sure know how to leave an impression” she giggles, poking at the myriad of bruises along her thighs and hips. Taking a look at himself, Spencer feels a whirl of pride, disgust and intrigue, her face red from the slaps, her hair a mess, covered in bruises and marks that will soon bruise.

_At least you’re feeling something._ The voice had a point.

Spencer pulls his tie up again, and watches Cat as she gets dressed, and moves the table and chairs back to their original position.

“Come back will you Spencie?” Cat asks with a painfully sweet smile.

Spencer doesn’t respond, he just knocks on the door, and escapes as soon as the guard unlocks it.

In the Uber on the way home, he thinks. He can’t believe he just had sex with Cat Adams. In prison. But mainly, he can’t believe how much he enjoyed it, and how excited he is for the next time.

_Next time? Good boy._


End file.
